Dinner with Rommel
by akwolfie11
Summary: Captain Dietrich recalls the childhood events that led to his career in the Wehrmacht during a dinner party at Rommel's HQ.


Dinner with Rommel

"Mein Gott!" Dietrich swore softly to himself as he surveyed the array of sparkling crystal and silver in the formal dining room. He should be flattered – an invitation to dine with Rommel was an indication to all that he was an up-and-coming young officer – yet he would have preferred to be back in the desert with his own men, sharing their simple meal.

His partner for the meal was a blue-eyed, brunette beauty dressed in a clinging red gown with no apparent visible means of support holding it up. Unfortunately, her attraction was waning by the minute, as her entire conversational repertoire seemed to consist of how ghastly Herr Oberst Ansdorf's mistress looked in green and how hard it was to find a good hairdresser with the war on and all. He tried to listen politely as she launched into a description of an opera she had attended in Berlin, but instead found himself wondering where the Rat Patrol was and what they were up to. They had been very quiet the last few weeks and he was sure they were plotting some new raid to bedevil him with.

"Aren't you General von Imelhof's grandson?" his partner was asking him.

"I have that honor," he replied.

"We were all so sorry to hear of his death." She didn't look sorry at all, but rather hopeful for some tidbit of gossip she could share with her friends. "Wasn't there some terrible scandal years ago?"

His grandfather's death a few months ago – most likely from a broken heart at what Hitler was doing to his beloved Germany – had revived the old stories about his mother's estrangement from her family as a result of her marriage to a common fisherman.

"It was before I was born." He tried the most charming smile he could muster on her, hoping to divert what few thoughts were rattling around in that lovely head away from the present topic. Evidently it worked. She fluttered her eyelashes and flashed a promise for later with her eyes before turning away to engage her neighbor in conversation.

Dietrich's mother had volunteered as an ambulance driver during the last war. When Dietrich's father had gone missing in action, his mother went behind enemy lines to find and rescue him. When Hans had been growing up, his father had often told him the story of their daring trip and how his mother had shot two French soldiers who surprised them as they slept in a barn.

After the war, the family settled in Kiel. Dietrich had happy memories of his childhood there.

But because of the family rift, he never met his grandfather until one afternoon just after his ninth birthday.

Hans had been playing with his friends when a tall, white-haired stranger stopped to watch. The man stood very straight with his hands clasped behind his back, keen grey eyes taking in the scene before him. The boys were playing war and Hans's three friends had dispersed to hide. Their game was a kind of free-for-all where each would try to capture and "kill" the other three and the last boy alive was the winner.

"Why are you not hiding?" the old man had asked him. "The other boys are bigger than you. Are you afraid?"

Hans made no attempt to defend himself from the accusations, staring steadily at the man instead. "Heinz will come through that gate over there in a few minutes. If I capture him and make him yell, his brother will come to help him. When nothing happens for a while, Manfred will get impatient and come to look. I will win the game without ever having to leave this spot."

The old man nodded. "And what will you do if Heinz does not yell, or Manfred is more patient than you suspect he is?"

"Then I shall think of something else." Hans picked up a stick and moved to hide next to the gate. Heinz, as predicted, soon came through. Hans jumped him and pulled him to the ground. He punched him hard in the bicep, and Heinz bellowed loudly. Hans poked him with the stick, informed him that he was dead, and moved out of sight to wait for Heinz's brother to show up. When Rolf ran through the gate, Hans tackled him and whacked him with the stick.

"You're dead, Rolfie." Hans returned to his hiding place and settled down to wait. It took almost fifteen minutes before Manfred crept cautiously through the gate. Hans had expected the stranger to leave, but the man stood there watching him the whole time. Hans quickly dispatched Manfred and turned to the old man, shooting him a look of triumph.

The boys said their farewells and headed home for supper. As Hans walked down the sidewalk, the man fell in beside him.

"How did you know what those boys would do?" the gentleman asked curiously.

"Because that's what they almost always do," replied Hans. "I don't always win, you know," Hans admitted. "Sometimes my plans don't work."

"But they work often enough," the stranger laughed.

"Are you in the army?" Hans asked. "My grandfather's in the army. He's a general. I'm going to be in the army and be a general someday."

The man looked very pleased for some reason. "That's a fine ambition, lad, but being a general isn't easy you know. Sometimes devotion to duty and honor can cost you what you most love in life. The old man looked Hans up and down and nodded to himself. "Your name is Hans, is it not?"

"Hans Dietrich."

"Well, Herr General Dietrich, I am looking for your mother, Gabriella."

It was Hans's turn to stare. He met the old man's gaze and held it. "You're my grandfather, aren't you?" Hans stated.

"You're a very perceptive lad," the general laughed. Hans smiled at him happily. The old man took the boy's hand and let Hans lead him home.

Han's life changed after that day. He was enrolled in one of Germany's most elite military academies. When he graduated at seventeen, his grandfather, disillusioned with the political climate in Germany, would not allow him to enlist in the army. Instead he was sent to attend university in the United States and forbidden to return to Germany.

When Hans finished his degree, Hitler was still in power and war was looming on the horizon. He was visiting a university friend when a telegram arrived from his sister, informing him that his grandmother was dying.

Exactly one week after the invasion of Poland, Hans set foot on German soil for the first time in five years. He had been home only three days when a knock came at the door. Several soldiers had been sent to escort him to local headquarters where he would enlist as an officer of the Wehrmacht. His grandfather had hugged him goodbye. "Remember that your duty is to Germany, Hans," he had whispered to him. "No matter who leads, your duty is to your country. Be an honorable officer, treat your men well, remember your duty, and you will be fine."

It had been difficult at times to reconcile the sense of duty and honor that his grandfather believed in and had instilled in his grandson with the orders he had to carry out, but Dietrich had managed somehow and had risen to where he was now, dining with the soldier that, next to his grandfather, he most admired in the world.

He looked at Anna and smiled. "Actually, my grandfather was one of the most honorable men I have ever known…"

He broke off as the door opened to admit two soldiers wearing Luftwaffe uniforms. Both were breathing heavily as they rushed over to where General Rommel and Oberst Ansbach were sitting. They saluted and began talking quietly and quickly.

"What?" Hans heard the Colonel shout. "That is impossible. It was too well-protected!"

Rommel stood and held up his hand for silence. "Ladies!" he announced. "I'm afraid you are going to have to excuse us. You will be escorted home." The women rose and filed out of the room, followed by one of the guards present. When the door closed behind them, he turned to the remaining officers.

"Gentlemen, I am loathe to inform you that a top secret military aircraft, which has been undergoing testing here in the desert, has gone missing." A buzz of quiet conversation erupted at the announcement. Rommel held up his hand again. "All Luftwaffe officers will report to their bases immediately. I want every airworthy craft flying within the hour. There are very few places the allies could take such a plane. They will try to hide it, I am sure, but we will find it! The Wehrmacht will provide ground search support."

Herr Oberst," Rommel addressed the Luftwaffe colonel. "What is the range on this plane?"

Oberst Ansbach looked ready to faint. Der Führer would likely have him shot if it were not recovered. "A little over a thousand kilometers, Herr General," he replied.

"Then there is no possibility it could be flown to England, Herr Oberst?"

Ansbach paled even further at the thought. "In the hands of a highly skilled pilot, with a full tank of gas and no payload, it might be done," he admitted.

Rommel looked questioningly at the Luftwaffe officers.

"The plane was fueled shortly before takeoff," one of the officers informed him. "A flight engineer radioed that they would fill it this evening in anticipation of an early departure. After fueling, the plane taxied to the end of the runway and took off."

The door opened and a radio officer rushed in. "Herr General, we have just had reports that the ammunition depot at Al Gazara was bombed. They are saying that they were first hit by one of our own aircraft and then by two American jeeps"

The general cursed. "Herr Hauptmann Dietrich," he ordered. "You will search for these jeeps. If they are American, I want them captured and interrogated.

Dietrich could have told the general that they were most certainly American jeeps. Of course, he had no idea how the Rat Patrol were involved in the plane's theft, as he was reasonably sure none of them were capable of piloting an aircraft, but the resulting chaos had their prints all over it. At least, Dietrich thought, this time he would not be the one to have to write the report detailing yet another success on the part of the Rat Patrol.

The unconventional behavior of these men constantly frustrated Dietrich. His military career had been successful in great part due to his ability to predict how men would act and then plan accordingly, just as he had done with his childhood friends. He had set many traps for the Rat Patrol, made many plans for their demise, yet they always seemed to slip out of his grasp at the very last second. Dietrich was confident, however, that one day he would get the best of the four men, and was eagerly awaiting that day.

The men around the table rose, saluted, and hurried from the room. Dietrich found Anna waiting for him in the main hall. "Do you have to go?" she pouted.

"It would seem that I have to go chase some rats." Hans replied. She looked at him blankly, and Dietrich thought that perhaps the Rat Patrol may have done him at least a small favor by getting him out of town tonight. He bowed and kissed her hand, then turned on his heel and walked out the door.


End file.
